A persistently popular part of the Urban Fantasyland Mystery Play is the notion of supernatural attractiveness; vampiric fascination, succubi and incubi, ‘hilarious’ love potion results, and the like are some of the most requested features for a package.

In the case of the potion, it’s usually used to establish a baseline level of human decency for the protagonist: Obviously the person isn’t in their right mind, it would thus be wrong to take advantage of their state, and so the protagonist gets to enjoy the attentions of someone supernaturally compelled to try and seduce them while showing off their willpower or ability to stay true to their love interest.

This is often the case for the other forms as well. Being able to resist a vampire or sex demon’s charms shows a certain level of power and forces the other party to deal with them as equals instead of a meal.

(However, it’s generally used more for peculiar bragging rights- “I was so good in the sack that I seduced the seducer -right back- without having their advantages.” has a certain cachet with a certain class of playgoer. We generally refer to this class as ‘Low’.)

-Quote from an internally circulated employee email at Mystery Play LLC, presumably not for public consumption.

“Seriously? Now? You pick now for this. In case you didn’t notice, little busy.” I rubbed the back of my neck and then pointed to the magic circle. “Amateur wizard trying to ascend to godhood over there.”

Simone glanced towards Martel, and snorted contemptuously. “Him? That configuration won’t do anything of the sort, it’s just going to draw the demon’s attention and get him destroyed. And, probably the rest of the city. But it won’t get him what he wants.”

Martel sputtered. “Your boss had you design this for me. Are you saying you sabotaged it on purpose?”

Simone shrugged, bored. “Not really. The boss asked me to design something that could do what you asked for. And I did. If I were to use it, it’d work for me. But you, you horrible newt of a man, have no magical talent at all, and the powers you’re invoking can’t get you what you want.”

Simone was apparently distracted by Martel. No time like the present to try it. I read off the passage on the runestone, as quickly as I could.

Troll runes are a syllabary, rather than an alphabet; they were easy to interpret in other ways, since it was mostly copied from humans, but the assigned meanings in troll-speak were very different. It was something of a game for early troll writers to write things that could be interpreted one way in the human tongue and entirely differently in troll. Which probably just suggests that some of us were the sort to try and make people mad on the internet.

Simone and Martel were still wrangling as I uttered the last syllable, and the whole thing started to snakes all woke up, freed from the grip of whatever slumber they’d been kept in. Aim’s serpent immediately vanished, presumably to return between the legs of its master.And the basilisk...woke up. I suspected it was coming, so I covered my eyes. Martel wasn’t so lucky- he whipped around to look at the noise, and by the crackling sounds I could hear with my eyes closed, started to petrify. Poetic Justice, I suppose.

I wasn’t so lucky with regards to Simone- either the crowned snake didn’t turn its gaze to her, or she caught on too quickly to be caught by surprise, and a moment later I could hear her singing- something soothing and soporific.

“It’s safe to look now,” she said, amused.

I cracked open an eye. Simone was still there, and so was a statue of Martel; the snakes and serpents that remained were bound back in enchanted slumber.

I sighed. “Well, that’s done, anyway. Case closed, we can all go home.

“Not quite,” said Simone. “I still want a rematch.”

“You just want a rematch with rules where you’re more likely to win, because you want something out of me. Why not just ask me straight out instead of challenging me to another fight?”

Simone shook her head. “There are certain oaths and promises involved. I can’t just give it away like that.”

I sighed. “Well, I’m afraid I can’t give you the rematch you wanted, because we’re about to have a special visitor.”

She tilted her head, then her eyes widened in comprehension as the man in the tarnhelm appeared in front of us and stabbed me in the arm.

He’d finally wised up and picked up an enchanted blade from somewhere- it even broke the skin. I observed this clinically for a moment as he stood there panting, bloodied knife in hand. “Die, already, you impossible bastard! What does it take to kill you?”

The blade he’d grabbed had a basic blessing on it- sharper, hard to break, and especially effective against phantoms and the undead. The blessing was enough to get through my usual protection, even if the extra reinforcement didn’t do much for him.

“More than that, I answered, and took a swing at him with my unwounded mitt. He dived away. “Fuck the bonus, I just want you dead!”

“What’s all this about anyway? What bonus?” I was hoping he’d be angry enough to answer, even as I tried to grab for the top of his head and rip the cap away.

He jinked away as soon as my fingers brushed the cap, but I felt a tug on my hand when it happened; the cap apparently wanted to try and bring me along for the ride. Which at least suggested a strategy.

“We can’t let him get away this time!” Simone actually growled. “Interrupting bastard.” She fired her wand as soon as he reappeared, upending him with the same gusts of wind that could actually take me off my feet. He landed on his back, and then Lorraine was on top of him.

She went for the hat first, to try and keep him from blinking away, and actually managed to rip it from his head, brandishing it like a trophy of a kill. I’m pretty sure she got some of his hair along with it; he stabbed her in the side, the enchanted knife actually managing to slash through her armor and draw a line of blood along her side. With her guard down, he snatched for the cap again, but Lorraine started playing keep away, barely discomfited by the wound. Elves.

Simone was preparing another blast, but held back, since Lorraine might get hit. I started running into the scrum myself, because, well. In the last few days, this guy had blown me up, shot me, stabbed me, and hit me with a car, and I hadn’t gotten a really good hit on him yet. I’m not above wanting some goddamn payback.

Lorraine heard me coming and dodged out of the way. The assassin wasn’t so lucky, since he was still brandishing the knife and trying to get his hat back.I slammed into him at full speed and he went flying...right into the wards that had been set up to protect the snakes. Now it was his turn to get zapped by them and bounce off. He lost the knife and I kicked it away, letting Lorraine retrieve it.

“You wanna talk yet? Who’s paying you to try and kill me?”

“I did fucking kill you! I swear to god. But then you just didn’t stay fucking dead! And they won’t pay me without proof, plus I needed…” He trailed off. “Sorry, but the people who want you dead are scarier than you are, dude.”

“You one hundred percent sure about that? Really, really sure?” I dropped into a squat, hands on my knees, and getting into his face. “Because I’m here and they aren’t.”

It’d probably be more impressive if I weren’t still glamoured as Criss, but since he still thinks I’m his target, dropping the guise isn’t the best plan until we have information out of him.

“Besides,” I continued, “Right now, the Mystery Play company owns this neighborhood. They could pretty much do whatever they wanted to. Maybe even say you just disappeared and that the part of the guy in the motorcycle helmet who kept attacking one of their clients was just another actor.” I paused to let that sink in. “You might as well not even have existed, then.”

He sighed, then. “Fuck it. I was supposed to get a bonus if I proved you had taken up lichcraft. Which obviously you have, since you’re here talking to me after I blew a hole open in your skull.”

“Obviously.” I said. “Was that before or after you killed me the first time?”

“After. I reached out to my contact and thought it was all clear, but then you showed up on the stream like nothing had happened. I was supposed to take your place and lie low but that big lummox of an ogre of theirs turned up too fast.”

“Troll,” I said, absently. “So who hired you?”

“Really? You have to ask? Who do you think would want to kill you? Your wife’s branch of the Carrefours. She’s had your kid, you’re redundant, while little junior gets raised by his ma as his guardian.”

Fuck. That’s right. They did say he was married.

“Assuming it’s my kid.”

The assassin snorted. “How would anyone tell? All you magic shits are so inbred that any paternity test would come up inconclusive anyway.”

He had a point, but I wasn’t actually allowed to agree with him. “And of course, even if I'm still functional and undead, family tradition would dictate that I immediately retire and let my son inherit, so if you can prove I’m undead it’d be just as good as actually managing to kill me.”

The assassin shook his head. “Nah. They still want you dead either way, proving you’re a lich was just a bonus to stir up scandal on your side of the family.”

“I knew the marriage was loveless, I didn’t think it was straight up vindictive.” What kind of garbage had Carrefour been while he was alive? That was rhetorical, of course. He was part of the old magic families, so the answer was garbage who felt entitled to everything by virtue of his bloodline.

The assassin snorted again. “I don’t know what you did to her but she really wants you dead.”

“Probably for good reason. Simone? I think we’re done here for now. Could you…”

She nodded, and recited the same charm she’d used on the snakes- the killer protested, but faded off into yawns and then dropped into sleep.

I stood up, and recited the charm to let the glamour drop. It was finally fucking over, and I could stretch and be myself. “So, you get all that, boss?”

“Yeah. Looks like we’re going to have to feel out what faction of the family we report this to very carefully. Lawson? I’ll want a report from you.”

Lawson groaned audibly over the coms, but that was as good as a yes from him, really.

Then the boss came through on the main broadcast channel. “That’s a wrap everyone! The incident’s over and the play is as done as it’s going to get! Clean up crew, get to work, Cast members, please report to the office for final briefing. Temporary cast members, the bursar’s office will be open in 20 minutes for your checks. Wrap party is tonight at seven! GOOD JOB, EVERYONE!”

Simone sighed. “Ah well. Maybe I’ll catch you next time, Doyle.”